


His Second Chance

by pfftthatsstupid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Tom Riddle, F/M, Gen, Good Albus Dumbledore, Professor Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, Time Travel, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfftthatsstupid/pseuds/pfftthatsstupid
Summary: Tom Riddle. He was an enigma that was not to be messed with. He knew what he wanted from life and how he was going to achieve that. Until one day he made a fatal flaw landing him in 1998 in another universe. Will he make it back to his own time and world? Or does he like the future more now that he has finally found a world where he belongs?Professor Riddle storyTime travel, Alternate universe fan fictionWritten from the perspectives of Tom and Hermione.I do not own any characters or Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I just had an idea and wanted to try it out.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Rising from the Ashes

Tom Riddle, one of the brightest wizards of his age, lay still trying to pull struggling to pull oxygen into his lungs as his body makes its way back into consciousness. His eyes open. Reality begins to set in as the shapes and colours become more distinguished, giving the world around him vibrance and life. His mind races as it tries to remember what left him in such a vulnerable position.

The time turner.

The last thing he remembered was ghosting his hands over the intricate details of the devise, marvelling at the potential that the small object possesses. He had found it months ago on the floor of the slytherin common room in his last year of Hogwarts practically calling for him to pick it up. He tried to resist its call but it wore him down with its seductive whisper of power. His weakness. 

He reached for the time turner and pocket it quickly continuing on with the rest of the school year and his devious plan to murder his unworthy father.

•••

In a dark and slightly deranged state of mind, 5 years had flown by, the time turner waiting for him once he was freed. Tom had long since given up on his plans to take over the world. The name Lord Voldemort felt like a joke that left a bitter taste in one's mouth. It felt empty. The only thing that kept his mind from wandering back to the past five years was knowledge. He has researched many different topics, dark and light, to gain a deeper understanding of the world and got a masters in the Dark Arts and Transfiguration before the age of thirty although he didn't look a day over the age of twenty. It was the maddened look in his eyes that gave his true age away, their unappealing blood red colour, hidden away under a strong charm to make them seem a warm trusting hazel instead.

His mind subconsciously recalls those five years and he pulls out his pack of cigarettes that was running dangerously low and light one up. He took a long drag letting his nerves dribble away. It was as imperative that he kept himself under control. It was unlike him to let that experience get the better of him as it had been so long. Then again, anything like those years was bound to leave a mental scar on even the strongest people. The half finished cigarette hung from his lips and he methodically fiddled with the time turner that is hung around his neck. However, while taking a long and sensual drag of his cigarette, he coughed. With his chest sent into momentary spasm his finger jostles the time turner delicate switches.

It all went black.

•••

This brought Tom back to his current unfortunate situation. He felt a drumming in the back of his head as all the memories came flooding back to him and he realised that this was all his own fault. With his eyes fully open, he realises he's in the infirmary at Hogwarts. How did he get here? Tim looks up to see Dumbledore. This man had been a constant thorn in his side all throughout hogwarts and was one of the only people to say that he had successfully gotten under his skin. However in his later years he became someone who understood Tom's precarious situation and didn't let that stop him from helping Tom get his masters in transfiguration. However, this Dumbledore looked older and more haunted then the one he had known. Where was he? What year was it?

As though he heard Tom's internal question Dumbledore responds "it's 1998, Tom."

Tom looks at him, truly looks at him, and how he looks at Tom in response. He see something in the older mans eyes that he has not seen since his youth. A look of distrust and even a hint of mild disgust. Tom now has even more questions then before. This cannot be his world. This cannot be right. He sees my confusion and holds up the battered time turner.

"Broken beyond repair... such a shame" says Dumbledore gazing up over the time turner.

"So I can't get home?" Tom questions, hating how stupid and dismal the question sounds even to his own ears. At this point he does not even know what home is but it sounds very appealing compared to wherever he is now. He wanted to see his Dumbledore which he had come to view as the father he never had. This man was not him and had never been him. That was for certain.

He shakes his head. Tom looks down at his hands and begins twiddling his thumbs as an awkward silence passes between the pair. Tom's brain feels like it's moving a million miles per hour trying to comprehend what is going on.

"There's a lot you need to know." Dumbledore states cutting through the silence that was like a blanket over the room.

Tom makes a brief moment of eye contact and the old man knows that's his cue to carry on.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I do not know what you are doing here. Your time on this world is coming to an end. Your days are numbered. Yet here you appear to me as a young version of yourself that cannot be any older then twenty five."

Tom shoots him a questioning glance and he sighs.

"You are going to become a dark wizard, you're probably on that path now by the looks of your age, you will kill many and divide families. Eventually you will meet your match and you will be bested. For Harry knows a power you do not, love."

Tom stares at him, finally understanding.

"Albus, my old friend," at this the older man looks at him as though he has grown another head, "I have no idea what you are talking about. You talk as though I am some dark wizard who wants to take over the world when you know I do not. You speak as though I am already on this path and yet the Albus I knew would know I am already forty-one." Tom say calmly. 

Dumbledore looks at him even more confused, until the twinkle in his eye returns and Tom can tell that he understands what he is insinuating. After a second his eyes narrow slightly.

"How can you be forty-one and look like you do? Even if you are beginning to try to get me to comprehend what I think you are then you must understand that I need complete honesty from you, Tom."

"Of course my friend, you see my looks were a mistake. One of the many I made in my life. When I murdered my father in an attempt to put my soul inside an object-"

"A horcrux" Dumbledore interjects.

"Yes a horcrux," Tom supplies begrudgingly, slightly annoyed at the interruption, "something happened that I do not fully understand and now I seem to be unable to age. I only figured this out many years after I had stopped my quest for immortality."

"You just lied to me, Tom," he says slowly, "you understand exactly what happened and you're you're unwilling to share. I understand and will not press you for this information. However, I find it hard to believe that your quest immortality is over."

"So you have come to accept I am from a different universe?" Tom says smiling at the fact that they may be getting somewhere.

"I cannot see any other way. You are Lord Voldemort and yet you are not him at the same time. You are completely different and now I look at you closely your eyes give you away. They have seen suffering beyond your years while they try to radiate warmth and hope. The only hope Voldemort is able to give his victims, is the hope of a short and painless death." He stated methodically. 

Dumbledore sees Tom cringing at the name Lord Voldemort and raises a question eyebrow practically begging him to explain.

"That name I gave myself all those years ago just reminds me of my past failures, fears and self damage that I have done and will never forget. That word almost acts like a trigger to being them all flooding back. It's ironic Voldemort means flight from death and yet here I am now wishing a death upon myself and it cannot seem to come soon enough."

He looks at Tom thoughtfully for a minute before breaking the silence.

"I know your knowledge of the dark arts in this world is unrivalled and many could benefit from this-"

"I have a masters in the dark arts and transfiguration." Tom say seriously.

"Transfiguration?" He says in a sceptical tone.

"Yes, after hanging around with you for many years, Albus, I saw the need to perfect it as you have. Such a pure and beautiful form of magic when it is not abused." 

Dumbledore nods accepting his answer.

"I have a proposal for you." He says monotonously looking Tom dead in the eyes.

"A proposal?" Tom says arching one of his eyebrows.

"I will let you teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, if you are willing to help us fight in the war against Voldemort."

Tom's eyes widen in shock. Dumbledore must know this was his childhood dream job. It had been devastating that his job application had been denied after his graduation. However, here he is, being offered everything he wanted as a young boy. His younger self was a twisted boy believing in blood supremacy but not for the normal reasons. Many do not understand his reasons for disliking muggles as a youth, however he saw it that everything bad in his life has come from them. Tom Riddle Sr, for instance, left a woman who was pregnant with his child to die in a dingy orphanage while he hid. He claimed she bewitched him; it was true. Now Tom is broken because of it. After the brutal murder of his father he now sees how pointless it was and that there was no logical reason in hating myself or other people for something that wasn't up to them.

"I agree to the terms, on the one condition that you hold onto my wand and don't let me have it unless it is completely necessary." Tom says bluntly.

"Probably best not to be caught with You Know Who's wand either was." Dumbledore jokes.

Although, Dumbledore sees a confused look pass over his face before hesitantly taking his 13 and a half inch yew wand from him and pocketing it.

"Term starts on September first, you can get the train if you want but I'm sure you have a lot of sorting out to do."

Silently and swiftly, he exits the room leaving no room for question. 

Tom reflects over the discussion with Dumbledore. He realised he had 30 years of magical knowledge to catch up on from another world and he wasn't going to wait to start. September 1st is a month away and he needed everything to be perfect.

TBC......


	2. Unexpected Breakthrough

As the newly appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Tom entered Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. He looked around the halls he used to roam as a young 'Dark Lord' and sighed. He didn't have enough time to properly look around in the summer as he was too busy cramming his brain full of all the knowledge of this future world. All the knowledge of the atrocities he would have committed had he not let himself confess and try to change his ways in his world.

Tom stared down at his ring in a mixture of disgust and awe. It had been the only thing that was ever able to keep him grounded. It reminded him of what could happen if he let himself get drunk on power. It reminded him of the way he brutally murdered his father. He wanted to kill him but he also wanted him to suffer. This only adds to his long list of regrets now as he has had to live with what happened after that as a result. Tom had cast the killing curse on him and tried to form a horcrux from it. The agony was incomprehensible for it only to go wrong at the last minute due to the seed of doubt placed on his conscience only hours earlier. Tom knew that he had come out of that experience a changed person and while he was physically unscathed he knew that something darker under the surface had changed in him.

Tom is willing to admit that he was a very paranoid person when he was younger and constantly kept anything of value very close by such as his diary. It was filled with ideas and scribblings of the darkest magic the wizarding world had to offer. One day he used to hope to make it his second horcrux but that day would never come. The words on the pages only showing to a sacrifice of his own blood, otherwise appearing blank and pointless; of no significant value. While he still kept this diary close to him out of habit, it was now filled with even more scribbling on anything that interested him and some of the things he had been looking into and on the verge of a breakthrough for.

Tom pulls his thoughts back to Hogwarts as it was the only place he ever felt he could call home. Now he was properly back as the schools new DADA professor. He had always wanted to teach since he was a young twisted teen staring dreamily out the window after his second year of Hogwarts. He knew everything about the dark arts and felt confident. It was bizarre to Tom to think that in this time he would solely focus on the dark arts now knowing his passion for transfiguration. He had spent the last month brushing up on all his subjects, in particular the dark arts, but nonetheless he was excited to pass even just a fraction of his infinite knowledge and eagerness to learn down to the young impressionable teenagers of the future in the hope that they would not follow in my path and help fight against You Know Who if it came down to it.

The train would pull in for Hogwarts in less than a hour so he needed to gather his thoughts and be ready for the feast that would occur this evening. The sorting was always boring in his opinion. Of course he understood the necessity of separating the children in to a house in which they would function better in yet he could not help the fact that it made him want to fall asleep. He would make sure that he would bring his diary with him so he could look through some of his writings on the cure for lycanthropy (being a werewolf) as he knew was on the verge of a breakthrough. A breakthrough on this topic would be world changing and he would be dammed if he didn't figure it out soon.

Tom carefully placed all his items along the mantelpiece in his bedroom. He had chosen against getting the train as Dumbledore suggested, instead opting to apparate to Hogsmeade a day earlier and walk through the secret tunnel to Hogwarts that not many people knew of. As he was now a professor he would have his own privet room and he would not have to sleep near any of the snotty nosed first years. Of course he would have to try and invest his time equally into every student however that would be hard because if a student doesn't want to learn, they don't. But that would not matter as his goal was still the same- to bring out the best in all his students at the end of the year boosting his status and his ability before releasing his cure to lycanthropy as it would hold more credit. 

Eventually the goal was to be able to work with the healers as well as teaching Defence as his knowledge expanded far beyond what ever other witches and wizards knew. Around the wizarding world there was turmoil at the prospect that Voldemort had returned after being believed dead for so long. However, they did not know that Tom Riddle was alive and kicking. With that thought a triumphant smirk pulled at his lips. Tom knew he was going to help the effort against Voldemort as he would definitely be needed and would be able to bring insight into Voldemort's head space as a youth. He intended to join this order that Dumbledore spoke of in passing, it would be his only way to feel okay about the fact that there was an evil version of himself alive and wanting to kill after he vowed to himself so long ago that he would never take anothers life... ever. While to many that may seem extreme, Tom did not want to get drunk on the power that came with taking another's life like how he fled when he was in his youth.

Tom used to be notorious around wizarding Britain as the most skilled wizard to have attended Hogwarts. However, considering it's been 50 years he doubted that it was still correct. Magic had moved on. That prospect excited him as he had already caught up on it all, but who knows what was to come.

Tom looked down at his left arm to see a skull with a snake entwined within it. This was going to be how the dark mark was going to look. A childish drawing at best, however it represented all that he thought he stood for as a young boy. Tom never got round to brandishing anyone else with it as he had given up on his childhood fantasy for world domination after the murder of his father. For that, he is grateful. 

As he gazed down at where his own dark mark lay in contrast to his pale skin, he couldn't help but reflect on how urgent Dumbledore made it seem that he had to keep it covered. Tom found the strongest glamor known to wizards and cast it over his mark. Later he found out that if you had the mark, it could be punished with life imprisonment in Azkaban and that was the last thing he needed. 

Tom checked the clock on the wall the see that it was almost time for the pupils to arrive. Slowly, he made his way towards the great hall, diary in hand, to begin the sorting ceremony. Once he sat down it would only takes ten minutes for the hall to be completely filled with students, minus the first years who are cautiously waiting to be sorted, and he wondered if he looked this scared and nervous when he himself joined Hogwarts.

During the sorting he keep his head buried in his diary practically ignoring everyone as he tried and failed to make the necessary breakthrough. It felt as though it was within his reach and that he was just missing one crucial ingredient. Tom knit his brows together in confusion as he tried to find out what it is that he was missing. Eventually he closed his diary as he realised the sorting is coming to an end, brain still racing trying to come up with the formula.

After the sorting, Headmaster Dumbledore started making his yearly speech. Once that truly inspiring talk was over it was now time for himself to be introduced to the students. They all looked up to him; the boys in confusion and the girls in awe. The thought that he used to want all the attention on himself makes me cringe as all the beady eyed students stared. But his own line of thoughts are disrupted by Dumbledore's voice claiming that Voldemort has risen again meaning that everyone needed to be extra cautious and allowed the feast to begin and the food appeared on the table.

Tom allowed his eyes to scan the crowd for anyone who looks as though they may have the same thirst for knowledge as himself and his eyes fall onto a young girl sitting at the Gryffindor table. She had long curly brown hair that cascaded down her face in loose ringlets, and piercing brown eyes that stood out on her delicate face. He soon realised he was staring at this poor girl and looked away.

All throughout the feast he felt as though there was always a pair of eyes on him and he tried to ignore it. But it's only when he finally decided to look back at the Gryffindor table he realises she is watching him carefully and calculatingly. Tom looks her dead in the eyes and send her one of his signature smirks. He promised myself to find out who this sixth year was. He sees Harry Potter sitting next to her and realise that she must be one of his friends. If only she knew who she was looking at right now.

TBC......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters in a day, you are lucky.


	3. Professor Riddle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let you know that the chamber of secrets was never opened and that the diary is still in Malfoy’s possession. Dumbledore is still speculating about Voldemort having a horcrux. The trio does not know that Voldemort was Tom Riddle.

It was time to begin a fresh new year at Hogwarts. Hermione felt fortunate. Tensions were rising as was the inevitability of war. While that was a daunting thought she knew she needed to be in a position to be able to take on Voldemort if necessary. She never understood why people didn't want to say his name. Fear of the name increases the fear of the thing itself. However, she couldn't have been more thrilled to be going back as Hogwarts was the one place she always felt safe. Her life was complicated to say the least, one moment she felt as thought it was really coming together and other times she felt as though she was at odds with everyone. Hermione felt as though she was playing a psychological game with a killer and if she did one thing wrong he was going to kill either Harry or Ron.

Ron. One word that can bring so many unwanted emotions with it. Yet he wouldn’t ever see her in that way. Hermione’s pretty sure he only sees her as his older sister but she can still hope that he will like her some day. He understood her. He understood her need to constantly be right and that she put her heart and sole into everything she did. It will probably be the one thing that keeps them out of trouble against Voldemort.

Quietly, Hermione listens to the chatter happening around her until she cannot be bothered any more. She picks up her advanced potion book and tries to study some more. While she was highest in the class at potions theory, she knew she was very average at the practical side of brewing a potion. Something about it never seemed to click with her; at least she would be able to get a good mark. 

Hermione was Outstanding in all of her subjects (apart from potions) and was expecting to get the highest grades. With the amount of pressure getting put on her by her peers, she would be surprised if Ron and Harry got any of her attention. The library would become her permanent dorm. Her train of thought was bought back to the Conversation by Ron.

“Mione? Are you alright?" He asked in a concerned tone. 

"Sorry Ron, just thinking about our finals for this year." Hermione answers honestly as Ron looks at her like she’s grown a third head.

"I'm glad that you're taking the threat seriously, Mione, I'm not surprised if this is my last year at Hogwarts due to the war." Harry chimes in.

She knew that Harry liked Ginny. That much was clear. However, she also knew that he was hesitant to make her his girlfriend as he didn't want her to worry more then she already was about him. Many thought it was suicide to go up against Voldemort and yet Harry knew it was the only way he was ever going to escape the mental link that he and voldemort shared.

On this train of thought, Hermione can't help but feel sad that her feelings toward Ron are unrequited. At least Harry and Ginny both knew that they liked each other and yet she might die in the war without Ron ever knowing how she felt towards him and that hurt a lot more.

An hour or so later the golden trio arrived at Hogwarts and they were walking into the Great Hall. Her eyes immediately locked onto the enchanted ceiling, knocking the breath out of her. Even though she has seen it for five years it never failed to take her breath away. She felt like a first year; it was this sort of excitement over the small things that made life worth living even in these dark times.

Quickly, she say herself down at the Gryffindor table waiting for the speech to begin. Ron sat next to her and Harry with Ginny opposite them. They made light convosation about what subjects they were going to take as act as though everything is alright in the world. Much to her disappointment Ron was still taking muggle studies (which for any other pure blood wizard she would be happy that they had chosen it) however, she knew Ron had only chosen it because he found it easy and thought he would get a good grade.

The speech began as their conversation died down. Dumbledore talked about everything that they needed to know about the school and the first years. Just as she thought it was finishing up Dumbledore stood proudly at his podium and introduced the new DADA teacher.

"I would like you to give a warm welcome to our new Dark Arts teacher, Professor Riddle." He clapped his hands and encouraged Professor Riddle to stand.

Slowly he stood and waved to make his presence known to all. Hermione could see everyone in the hall feeling shocked. You could feel the power radiating off him in waves. It was as though he demanded respect and she was intrigued to know how he would handle her class. As she looked  
closer at some of the girls, she saw them ogling at him and she rolled her eyes. Granted, he was a very handsome man and couldn't be that much older then the sixth years, they still had to respect that he was their professor. 

Her attention was bought back to Dumbledore who was explaining the current threat being imposed on them by Voldemort as she knew he considered Hogwarts his home. Just as she’s about to get her timetable she felt eyes staring at her. Her breathing hitches. Mr Riddle is staring at her, his gaze burning into her body leaving her weak and empowered at the same time. He realises that she’d caught his eye, and looked away in what she assumed was embarrassment although she couldn't tell.

Throughout the rest of the feast her eyes keep subconsciously wandering back to him as though it was against her own will. It felt as though he was ignoring her, like he knew she was staring at him and refused to acknowledge it. 

Hermione looked through her time table, heavily distracted, and realised she had gotten all the classes she had applied for; which she was ecstatic about. Ron had also gotten all the subjects he wanted meaning that he was going to be taking muggle studies. What a waste of learning potential. She couldn't help but wonder what professor Riddle’s class was going to be like. She was embarrassed to say she was excited, but she would not lie.

Upon this train of thought her eyes wandered to the handsome professor. He locked eyes with her... and smirks? Her head is sent into such a frenzy for the rest of the feast that Ron has to physically grab her hand to remove her from her seat.

They make their way to the Gryffindor common room, weaving between the students. Not wasting any time, Hermione says goodnight to Ron, Harry and Ginny. She would need to be well rested for tomorrow.

TBC......


	4. Devilishly Good Looking

Hermione's brain was going into overdrive. She was standing outside Professor Riddle's Defence class and she was a mess. While her outward appearance didn't portray that of a girl who was nervous, anxious and extremely excited about the class she was about to take, her internal restraints had already broken at the memory of the power she could feel radiating off him at the welcoming feast.

While Ron thought it was odd that she was extraordinarily bubbly, he didn't question it. He knew her hunger for knowledge was something that he was never going to understand. Although she was excited to learn, she was also excited to be in the professors intoxicating presence.

Professor Riddle.

He was a suave young man, probably early twenties. His curly hair perfectly parted in such a way that it automatically made you notice; his warm brown eyes that left you wondering how they could be such a generic colour and yet so unique at the same time; and his teeth were so white that it was made you wonder whether he had ever eaten anything. However, what drew her to him the most during the welcome back speech was this feeling of power he had given off. It was enticing.

She was abruptly dragged from her thoughts by Ron grabbing her arm, oh yeah Ron, the boy she's in love with who doesn't love her back. Sometimes she finds it hard to believe that Ron and her aren't together, not in a creepy way, just that she has been dreaming of being with him since fifth year and yet now they are still not together. Nothing has changed, which is a problem... she thinks. Not that any of this is Ron's fault though, but she doesn't want to keep it this way.

Slowly, she notices students starting to wander into Professor Riddle's classroom. She is a bundle of nerves. Hermione choose a seat on the left hand side, in the middle, so she does not draw any attention to herself. Ron goes and sits with Harry as Lavender Brown slides into the seat next to her.

Hermione looks around the room for the Professor, only to realise he is sitting behind the front desk glancing down at a book of some sorts, furiously scribbling down something. Once all of the seats are full the door slams shut putting everyone on edge. Some people visibly jumped from it, however Hermione managed to keep an outward persona of calm.

Professor Riddle chuckles to himself still looking down at his book and smoothly says "if some of you are getting frightened by a door closing then maybe this is not the class for you. We shall be dealing with things much more scary then a door, I can assure you."

Everyone sat there stunned. Never had a professor openly mocked the integrity of the class (well maybe Snape had a few times but it was mainly directed at individual students). This was definitely going to be different then any other class she had ever attended at Hogwarts.

After a while he spoke again, "I feel the best ways for us to get to know each other in this double lesson is through duelling," excited murmurs begin to fill the room. Last year Umbridge had made sure that there would be absolutely no practical application of magic. "throughout the rest of this term we can widen your knowledge of spells to use in defence. I want to look at dark creatures, and light creatures that have potential to be very dark. It is imperative that you understand that you cannot have the light without the darkness, magic works in opposites. Every spell, every action, has an equal opposite and the balance should never be disturbed only manipulated. The dark arts is based on intent and focus so I will be needing all your attention from the moment you enter this room to the moment you leave, otherwise people will get hurt." 

To Hermione it made perfect sense what he was doing and she was surprised that no other Defence Professor had ever thought of that before. She watched as the chalk moved over to the board and starts writing the names of the pairs. She watched in anticipation to see who she would be duelling... Ron? She was going to duel Ron? That was such an odd pairing.

Professor Riddle looks out at some of the confused faces and speaks again, slower then last time as if to help us understand his reasoning, "if you are in a battle situation, you will not know who you are duelling, nor will you get to pick; the same thing applies to this. If you actually want to get better and learn you will need to learn more unique spells and the best way to do that is to duel a lot of people. As they say", he drawls, "practice... makes... perfect." 

The rest of the class continues with him assessing all of their abilities and jotting them down in his note book. Hermione did see that it was a different book to the one he was writing in earlier. She noticed that he had a lot to written down about her own duel, more than most peoples. After this, he dismisses the class and Hermione had started to wander over to Ron and Harry.

"Ahh, Miss Granger, I would like to have a word with you. It will only be quick." He says in a softly yet oddly demanding way that left no room for discussion.

She signalled to Ron that he does not have to wait for her outside and that she will catch up with him. He shoots her a thankful look and continues out the room. 

A minute passes and she becomes painfully aware of the fact that it is just her and Professor Riddle. He leaned up against the desk in a way that make him look sophisticated and desirable at the same time causing Hermione's cheeks to redden at the thought. He signals to the desk directly in front of him. Cautiously, she takes a seat.

"I notice, Miss Granger, how advanced your spell work is. As a prefect, I expected nothing less. I want you to achieve an outstanding grade in this subject, as you never know when it will come in handy." He gives her a look, and she knows he's talking about Voldemort. "While some may say I'm biased, I find that it is one of the most useful things you shall learn as a young witch or wizard. Some may argue that it is potions or charms, there is a dark side to all magic meaning that the possibilities are endless. I believe that the magic behind anything that is strange and unnatural stems from the dark arts. It is all around us and yet many choose to be ignorant and unaware."

Hermione feels stunned, no teacher had ever bothered to fully nurture her passion for learning like this. Yes, Dumbledore did give her a time turner to help her attend more classes, this was a whole different thing. He was personally taking it upon himself to teach her and a select few other students ( she had peaked a glance at his not book) more about something he was truly passionate about. She felt honoured.

"I... I would love to sir, when will this be taking place." Hermione asks slowly to make sure her voice doesn't wobble.

"Thursday evening. I would have preferred Friday however Slughorn has insisted that I come along to help him with his Slug Club." He replied sharply a mild edge to his voice. 

"Okay, thank you so much, sir." Hermione says, trying not to sound giddy. 

"Dismissed." He said curtly and strides back over to his desk.

Slowly, but surely, she pulls herself out of the desk she was sitting at. She doesn't know how or why he gets to her so much and has this much of an affect on her. Is she... crushing on a teacher? She immediately stops her thoughts as she dashes out of the room.

Once she's out the room she releases the breath she didn't know she was holding and collapse against the wall. His presence it was so overwhelming and his devilishly good looks we're getting to her.

This was going to be a long year.

TBC.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> booya

**Author's Note:**

> Actually going to try and post regularly.


End file.
